Last weekend we got to go to Enviro Expo. Which was especially fun because my dad was kind of the one who started it. I ended up volunteering at the Sierra Club booth for a lot of the time, so I didn't get to wander around and meet people as much as I would have liked, but I still had a great time. Here are some of the organizations I was most interested in that I discovered there:
The Living Green Pages. This is going to be launched soon. It's an idea I've heard before, of basically combining every environmentally-friendly resource you need into one website. Great concept. We'll see if it comes together.
The Greening Youth Foundation. This is a new program that goes into schools and teaches an eight-week environmental education program. I was particularly interested in this because right now they're only in elementary schools, but long-term they'd like to expand into middle and high schools. I told them I'd be very interested in helping with that...
Eco Clean Atlanta. I was just thinking the other day that this ought to exist. Turns out it does. It's an ecologically-friendly cleaning service. I'm not in the market for a cleaning service right now, but if I ever am, I will definitely call them.
And my favorite: Career Eco. I'm not in the market for a job right now, but this kind of makes me wish I were. Eco careers, all on one website. Cool. The website doesn't seem to be working right now, though.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
My favorite blogger, Sharon Astyk, wrote yesterday about the core problem in our thinking about energy decline and transition. In a nutshell, it is this: we want big solutions, but we need small ones.
She references Al Gore's recent editorial, where in the glow of Obama's election he calls for sweeping energy reform: solar plants in the southwest, investments in hybrid cars, and a national carbon tax. Gore wants changes on a massive scale, changes in infrastructure and policy that will require huge investments up front. But what he doesn't ask for--as Sharon points out--is investments on a small scale, simple actions on a human, individual level. We don't think these things make a difference. But the truth is that they do.
And so Sharon brings the problem back to the one thing politicians and businessmen never want to mention, the one thing that everyone can and should do: conservation. America used to value conservation. Only a few generations ago, we prided ourselves on frugality and care: Waste not, want not, our grandparents said, and even my mother still washes and reuses plastic cups and baggies.
But my parents' generation began to move away from that ideal: in trying to live "better" than their parents had, they gave up some of the conservation ideals of the Depression. And my generation, the "me generation," children of the 80's boom and beneficiaries of the trickle-down economy, we were raised with a mindset so far from frugality that we have come to see waste as a virtue. We believe that the best way to help others is by helping ourselves. Buy American. Spend your stimulus check. Vote with your dollars.
But if we want to ease our transition to a lower-energy world, it's time we re-learn conservation. It's time we abstain. One commentator on Astyk's post suggests that we need better part-time jobs, so people can earn money and still have time to be at home, to care for children and to cook meals so those kinds of things don't need to be outsourced. We need to move our personal economies closer to home: drive less, eat out less, grow food more, provide for our own needs more. We need to rely less on the system and more on ourselves and our neighbors.
And, contrary to common belief, we really don't have to go back to the middle ages to do it. We might need to go back a generation or two for our best models--but there is a reason, after all, why that generation is remembered as the Greatest.
She references Al Gore's recent editorial, where in the glow of Obama's election he calls for sweeping energy reform: solar plants in the southwest, investments in hybrid cars, and a national carbon tax. Gore wants changes on a massive scale, changes in infrastructure and policy that will require huge investments up front. But what he doesn't ask for--as Sharon points out--is investments on a small scale, simple actions on a human, individual level. We don't think these things make a difference. But the truth is that they do.
And so Sharon brings the problem back to the one thing politicians and businessmen never want to mention, the one thing that everyone can and should do: conservation. America used to value conservation. Only a few generations ago, we prided ourselves on frugality and care: Waste not, want not, our grandparents said, and even my mother still washes and reuses plastic cups and baggies.
But my parents' generation began to move away from that ideal: in trying to live "better" than their parents had, they gave up some of the conservation ideals of the Depression. And my generation, the "me generation," children of the 80's boom and beneficiaries of the trickle-down economy, we were raised with a mindset so far from frugality that we have come to see waste as a virtue. We believe that the best way to help others is by helping ourselves. Buy American. Spend your stimulus check. Vote with your dollars.
But if we want to ease our transition to a lower-energy world, it's time we re-learn conservation. It's time we abstain. One commentator on Astyk's post suggests that we need better part-time jobs, so people can earn money and still have time to be at home, to care for children and to cook meals so those kinds of things don't need to be outsourced. We need to move our personal economies closer to home: drive less, eat out less, grow food more, provide for our own needs more. We need to rely less on the system and more on ourselves and our neighbors.
And, contrary to common belief, we really don't have to go back to the middle ages to do it. We might need to go back a generation or two for our best models--but there is a reason, after all, why that generation is remembered as the Greatest.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
president obama
Like many Americans, I was up late last night. I've been watching this election with all the excitement I usually devote to my favorite television dramas. I've seen every debate, many of the speeches, and absolutely every Tina Fey skit. After two emotional years of following this campaign, last night felt to me like the climax of a really long movie. Cue music and credits as the audience gets teary-eyed and slowly files out of the theater, back into the real world.
But, of course, last night wasn't the end. It was the beginning. As Obama said so powerfully in his speech last night, "This is not the change we seek. This is only the opportunity to make that change." I know a lot of my friends didn't vote for Obama, and a lot of people are scared about what his administration will mean for this country. I'm not one of them. I voted for him--in the primaries as well as the general--and I've never been so excited about a candidate in my life.
And although there are plenty of historic and social reasons to be excited about President Obama, my reasons are, I think, a little different than most. It's not because he's the first African-American president our country has ever elected, although I am happy about what that says about the slow eradication of racism in America. And it's not because he's a young, inspiring speaker who's fun to listen to, although I do look forward to actually listening to the entire inaugural address for the first time ever. Nor is it because of his strong energy and environmental plans, although those were my original reasons to vote for him.
No, today I am excited about a president Obama because it seems to me he has run a campaign entirely different from anything we've seen before in this country, and I believe he has the potential to restore the practicality of democracy in America. Rich Mullins once said that democracy was a great idea, an experiment he was happy to be part of. I've always thought that I would feel the same way if I really thought I was part of it. Truthfully, even though I've cared about political issues for a long time, I've never thought that America really worked as a democracy. Democracy, to me, means that everyone participates--everyone has a say in the laws, the issues, the day-to-day reality of governmental decisions. Democracy is supposed to be a government by the people; it's supposed to mean self-governance. And sorry, but two minutes of casting a ballot in a voting booth doesn't count in my mind as governance. So for a long time, I've felt that the only true form of democracy is a small one--about the size of the Greek city-states that originally invented the idea. Democracies ought to be small enough that ordinary individuals can be part of the important decisions that affect everyone. And America is just too big to do that.
Or so I thought.
But now, Obama has changed my mind. In the world of the internet, America just might have shrunk small enough for us to build a real democracy. There was some controversy over Obama's refusal to use public financing for his campaign, but it says something huge about him that his incredibly rich coffers were filled by ordinary people like you and me, and the average donation was a mere $80. Many of them were $5 and $10 donations, gifts from hundreds of thousands of people that added up to Obama's amazing political machine. This is incredible to me because it speaks to the grassroots nature of his campaign: lots of people donating time and money and energy to make something happen together. And it wasn't just the money. Obama had thousands of offices all over the country, in every state, staffed mostly by volunteers. People were making calls for his campaign from their own homes. I think more people volunteered for this campaign than have ever volunteered for a political campaign in this country. Obama has leveraged ordinary people all over America in a way that no presidential candidate ever has before.
And he was sometimes criticized for running a campaign that was all about him, calling for a change that ultimately amounted to nothing more than electing him. But last night, he made it clear that that was not his intention. When he reminded his supporters that this is not the change they've been working for, he also told them that they would still be needed.
So now I'm excited to see if it's really possible for a president to truly stay connected to the people of this country at a grassroots level. Will a President Obama really be able to listen to ordinary people and their concerns? Will the volunteers who were so excited to elect him stay excited about enacting new policies for his administration? Will the families who were willing to sacrifice time and money now be willing to sacrifice convenience and ease in order to change our energy policy and protect our environment? Will the inspiration last?
For the first time in my life, I feel like I'm part of history. For the first time in my life, I feel like I am part of the great experiment of democracy. And, at the risk of sounding like Michelle Obama at her worst, last night I was prouder than I've ever been in my life to be an American.
But, of course, last night wasn't the end. It was the beginning. As Obama said so powerfully in his speech last night, "This is not the change we seek. This is only the opportunity to make that change." I know a lot of my friends didn't vote for Obama, and a lot of people are scared about what his administration will mean for this country. I'm not one of them. I voted for him--in the primaries as well as the general--and I've never been so excited about a candidate in my life.
And although there are plenty of historic and social reasons to be excited about President Obama, my reasons are, I think, a little different than most. It's not because he's the first African-American president our country has ever elected, although I am happy about what that says about the slow eradication of racism in America. And it's not because he's a young, inspiring speaker who's fun to listen to, although I do look forward to actually listening to the entire inaugural address for the first time ever. Nor is it because of his strong energy and environmental plans, although those were my original reasons to vote for him.
No, today I am excited about a president Obama because it seems to me he has run a campaign entirely different from anything we've seen before in this country, and I believe he has the potential to restore the practicality of democracy in America. Rich Mullins once said that democracy was a great idea, an experiment he was happy to be part of. I've always thought that I would feel the same way if I really thought I was part of it. Truthfully, even though I've cared about political issues for a long time, I've never thought that America really worked as a democracy. Democracy, to me, means that everyone participates--everyone has a say in the laws, the issues, the day-to-day reality of governmental decisions. Democracy is supposed to be a government by the people; it's supposed to mean self-governance. And sorry, but two minutes of casting a ballot in a voting booth doesn't count in my mind as governance. So for a long time, I've felt that the only true form of democracy is a small one--about the size of the Greek city-states that originally invented the idea. Democracies ought to be small enough that ordinary individuals can be part of the important decisions that affect everyone. And America is just too big to do that.
Or so I thought.
But now, Obama has changed my mind. In the world of the internet, America just might have shrunk small enough for us to build a real democracy. There was some controversy over Obama's refusal to use public financing for his campaign, but it says something huge about him that his incredibly rich coffers were filled by ordinary people like you and me, and the average donation was a mere $80. Many of them were $5 and $10 donations, gifts from hundreds of thousands of people that added up to Obama's amazing political machine. This is incredible to me because it speaks to the grassroots nature of his campaign: lots of people donating time and money and energy to make something happen together. And it wasn't just the money. Obama had thousands of offices all over the country, in every state, staffed mostly by volunteers. People were making calls for his campaign from their own homes. I think more people volunteered for this campaign than have ever volunteered for a political campaign in this country. Obama has leveraged ordinary people all over America in a way that no presidential candidate ever has before.
And he was sometimes criticized for running a campaign that was all about him, calling for a change that ultimately amounted to nothing more than electing him. But last night, he made it clear that that was not his intention. When he reminded his supporters that this is not the change they've been working for, he also told them that they would still be needed.
So now I'm excited to see if it's really possible for a president to truly stay connected to the people of this country at a grassroots level. Will a President Obama really be able to listen to ordinary people and their concerns? Will the volunteers who were so excited to elect him stay excited about enacting new policies for his administration? Will the families who were willing to sacrifice time and money now be willing to sacrifice convenience and ease in order to change our energy policy and protect our environment? Will the inspiration last?
For the first time in my life, I feel like I'm part of history. For the first time in my life, I feel like I am part of the great experiment of democracy. And, at the risk of sounding like Michelle Obama at her worst, last night I was prouder than I've ever been in my life to be an American.
Monday, November 3, 2008
election day tomorrow!
I can hardly believe it's almost here. This has been the most exciting campaign of my lifetime, and although I'm a little embarrassed to admit it, I've loved every minute of it. The drama! The emotion! The historical precedents! It's been better than a soap opera.
And in just a few more hours, at last, we get to vote.
I'm not going to tell you who to vote for. I'm not even going to tell you who I'm voting for. My pastor gave a wonderful sermon yesterday in which he reminded us that no matter who wins tomorrow, our responsibility as Christians remains the same. We need to love our neighbors. We need to pray for our leaders. And we need to remember that it is our love and prayers and sacrifice, and not any political promises, that will have the greatest impact on our fallen world.
Still, you should vote tomorrow. It's more than participating in democracy; it's a way of caring for our neighbors. Research the issues (it's not too late). Double-check your voting place. Then go stand in line tomorrow and vote your conscience.
But I will tell you one way to vote: if you live in Georgia, please vote yes on Amendment 2! This is a constitutional amendment to create districts that will be used to fund the Beltline. Atlanta really needs this.
And in just a few more hours, at last, we get to vote.
I'm not going to tell you who to vote for. I'm not even going to tell you who I'm voting for. My pastor gave a wonderful sermon yesterday in which he reminded us that no matter who wins tomorrow, our responsibility as Christians remains the same. We need to love our neighbors. We need to pray for our leaders. And we need to remember that it is our love and prayers and sacrifice, and not any political promises, that will have the greatest impact on our fallen world.
Still, you should vote tomorrow. It's more than participating in democracy; it's a way of caring for our neighbors. Research the issues (it's not too late). Double-check your voting place. Then go stand in line tomorrow and vote your conscience.
But I will tell you one way to vote: if you live in Georgia, please vote yes on Amendment 2! This is a constitutional amendment to create districts that will be used to fund the Beltline. Atlanta really needs this.
Monday, October 20, 2008
extreme environmentalists might be crazy, says new york times
So my favorite blogger, Sharon Astyk, was featured in a New York Times article on "extreme approaches to living a green life." The article implies that people who go beyond recycling or using mass transit in their pursuit of a green lifestyle might be psychologically unhinged. Really.
I will admit there are some weird aspects of the lifestyles the article call "dark green," at least as they're described in the article. Why, for example, does Anita Levine scrub out and reuse ziplock bags--including ones that held dirty diapers--and yet use biodegradable instead of cloth diapers? (While she's at it, she could buy a diaper wetbag to hold used diapers and then throw the whole thing in the laundry, bypassing the need for at least one plastic bag. But maybe that's just me and my love for cloth diapers.) And David Chameides, who's collecting a year's worth of trash in his basement, might be a little crazy--but his stunt is no less strange than hundreds of other publicity stunts that we see all the time, and his blog is actually pretty interesting. And his most recent entry does a good job of negating the Times implication that these people are all crazy. "We all need to do the best we can," he writes, but "an occasional slip doesn't nullify everything else we are doing."
I couldn't agree more, and truthfully, I don't know anyone who lives a "dark green" lifestyle who doesn't realize that. Maybe there are people out there somewhere who "can't have something in [their] house that isn't green or organic" or "can't eat at a relative's house because they don't serve organic food," as the Times article warns against. If there are people like that, I've never met them, and frankly they clearly have psychological (or familial) issues that have nothing to do with wanting to live green. If it weren't organic food, for them, it would be something else.
But I think the mockery of the Times article goes deeper than that. It's easy to imagine the fullest extreme of something and then make fun of it. What's scary is that the people whom the article interviewed really aren't living in such an extreme way. They're doing a lot more than I am, admittedly, and more than nearly everyone in western society. But compared to the world at large, or the way most humans have lived throughout history, they're not strange at all. They don't use refrigerators? They hang their clothes to dry? They even--gasp!--grow some of their own food? You mean food doesn't grow on supermarket shelves?
Seriously, these are not strange activities. Growing food (in the ground), doing most work by hand instead of having lots of machines that do it for you, and taking care of your own waste products has been normal for most of human history. It's only in the last few hundred years that it's become possible, much less normal, to do otherwise. What's frightening to me is that now our culture has become so used to it that we view things like dryers and refrigerators not as labor-saving devices but as essentials for survival. We don't just think we need these things; we can't imagine living without them.
But the reality is that we can't live with them forever. It's possible that we might even have to live without them in our lifetimes. People who are already making do without them aren't crazy, and they aren't rejecting all human progress. In point of fact, they're ahead of the curve.
Self-denial and sacrifice have always been valued in Christian thought. It's good for our souls to live with less. It's even better for our souls if our living with less can also enable those worse off than us to live with more. "Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen," writes the prophet Isaiah, "to share your food with the hungry?" (58:6-7) It's good to fast; it's better to fast so that someone else can eat. By using less energy, these "dark green" people are leaving more for others. That's not crazy at all. It's just Christian.
I will admit there are some weird aspects of the lifestyles the article call "dark green," at least as they're described in the article. Why, for example, does Anita Levine scrub out and reuse ziplock bags--including ones that held dirty diapers--and yet use biodegradable instead of cloth diapers? (While she's at it, she could buy a diaper wetbag to hold used diapers and then throw the whole thing in the laundry, bypassing the need for at least one plastic bag. But maybe that's just me and my love for cloth diapers.) And David Chameides, who's collecting a year's worth of trash in his basement, might be a little crazy--but his stunt is no less strange than hundreds of other publicity stunts that we see all the time, and his blog is actually pretty interesting. And his most recent entry does a good job of negating the Times implication that these people are all crazy. "We all need to do the best we can," he writes, but "an occasional slip doesn't nullify everything else we are doing."
I couldn't agree more, and truthfully, I don't know anyone who lives a "dark green" lifestyle who doesn't realize that. Maybe there are people out there somewhere who "can't have something in [their] house that isn't green or organic" or "can't eat at a relative's house because they don't serve organic food," as the Times article warns against. If there are people like that, I've never met them, and frankly they clearly have psychological (or familial) issues that have nothing to do with wanting to live green. If it weren't organic food, for them, it would be something else.
But I think the mockery of the Times article goes deeper than that. It's easy to imagine the fullest extreme of something and then make fun of it. What's scary is that the people whom the article interviewed really aren't living in such an extreme way. They're doing a lot more than I am, admittedly, and more than nearly everyone in western society. But compared to the world at large, or the way most humans have lived throughout history, they're not strange at all. They don't use refrigerators? They hang their clothes to dry? They even--gasp!--grow some of their own food? You mean food doesn't grow on supermarket shelves?
Seriously, these are not strange activities. Growing food (in the ground), doing most work by hand instead of having lots of machines that do it for you, and taking care of your own waste products has been normal for most of human history. It's only in the last few hundred years that it's become possible, much less normal, to do otherwise. What's frightening to me is that now our culture has become so used to it that we view things like dryers and refrigerators not as labor-saving devices but as essentials for survival. We don't just think we need these things; we can't imagine living without them.
But the reality is that we can't live with them forever. It's possible that we might even have to live without them in our lifetimes. People who are already making do without them aren't crazy, and they aren't rejecting all human progress. In point of fact, they're ahead of the curve.
Self-denial and sacrifice have always been valued in Christian thought. It's good for our souls to live with less. It's even better for our souls if our living with less can also enable those worse off than us to live with more. "Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen," writes the prophet Isaiah, "to share your food with the hungry?" (58:6-7) It's good to fast; it's better to fast so that someone else can eat. By using less energy, these "dark green" people are leaving more for others. That's not crazy at all. It's just Christian.
Monday, September 22, 2008
gas lines in atlanta
I just got a phone call from my dad. He was supposed to come down from Marietta (about 40 miles away) to have lunch with me tomorrow. But no go.
"I don't think I'll be able to make it for lunch tomorrow," he began the conversation. There was a tense note in his voice; he spoke tersely. Something was wrong.
"Oh, no!" I said. "Why not?"
"I can't find any gas."
Apparently stations are out all over Atlanta. He waited in line for forty minutes, but the Exxon ran out of gas before he could get to the pump. He said he'll come down if he can find a station with gas. I guess that means I'm having lunch at home...
Me, I'm not worried about gas. I bought groceries yesterday, so I don't need to drive anywhere for two weeks. Anyway, I'm pretty sure I have enough to last a few weeks even if I were driving. And I'd be getting biodiesel anyway. I'd have to go check, but something tells me Rob's biodiesel tank is probably still full.
"I don't think I'll be able to make it for lunch tomorrow," he began the conversation. There was a tense note in his voice; he spoke tersely. Something was wrong.
"Oh, no!" I said. "Why not?"
"I can't find any gas."
Apparently stations are out all over Atlanta. He waited in line for forty minutes, but the Exxon ran out of gas before he could get to the pump. He said he'll come down if he can find a station with gas. I guess that means I'm having lunch at home...
Me, I'm not worried about gas. I bought groceries yesterday, so I don't need to drive anywhere for two weeks. Anyway, I'm pretty sure I have enough to last a few weeks even if I were driving. And I'd be getting biodiesel anyway. I'd have to go check, but something tells me Rob's biodiesel tank is probably still full.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
gustav is on its way
We're staying up late watching the storm sweep across the Gulf, thinking of all the people in Louisiana who are probably experiencing a particularly painful brand of deja vu right now. It's surreal how quickly history repeats itself.
Mayor Nagin is calling this "the storm of the century," in defiance of anyone who thought that that particular storm had already passed, three years ago when 1,500 people died.
A friend of mine, newly arrived in New Orleans for a three-month stint with a political campaign, joined the evacuation today. She's fortunate. Nagin has also said that the city won't be able to provide emergency resources to anyone left behind.
Scary? Yes. But also thought-provoking. Over the past few months my husband and I experienced a string of thefts: my wallet was stolen, my identity was stolen, my car was broken into twice and then stolen. By the end of it, we were both starting to wonder whether God was trying to tell us something. And without wanting to in any way imply that storms are God's punishment or that they're deserved, there's a part of me that can't help but wonder: when one city is repeatedly hit by hurricanes, could God be trying to tell us something?
And if so, what?
Mayor Nagin is calling this "the storm of the century," in defiance of anyone who thought that that particular storm had already passed, three years ago when 1,500 people died.
A friend of mine, newly arrived in New Orleans for a three-month stint with a political campaign, joined the evacuation today. She's fortunate. Nagin has also said that the city won't be able to provide emergency resources to anyone left behind.
Scary? Yes. But also thought-provoking. Over the past few months my husband and I experienced a string of thefts: my wallet was stolen, my identity was stolen, my car was broken into twice and then stolen. By the end of it, we were both starting to wonder whether God was trying to tell us something. And without wanting to in any way imply that storms are God's punishment or that they're deserved, there's a part of me that can't help but wonder: when one city is repeatedly hit by hurricanes, could God be trying to tell us something?
And if so, what?
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